This Left Feels Right
by Bertie Bott
Summary: Sometimes life throws you a curve ball right when you need it most. Damon is asked to visit an old friend by someone he can't say no to. When he gets to Forks, though, it's not a family of vampires he finds waiting for him, but an angry girl who just might give his life the new direction he's been seeking...
1. Forks

(A/N): This one-shot is written for you. I may never know your real name or who you are, but I thank each and every one of my readers for their unwavering support and encouragement. To the few I do know: Kittyinaz, thanks for inspiring me to write my own Damon/Bella story and Meridian, thanks for planting the plot idea :)

Takes place a few weeks after the meadow scene in New Moon, but Bella doesn't know about Jake. Since this is Damon's POV I feel compelled to mention that Bella will be very OOC – this is a take of what she would have been like if she got _angry_ about Edward and his family abandoning her instead of giving up and being all emo, haha...

Happy reading!

* * *

_**This Left Feels Right**_

An exhaustion going far beyond the physical and leading into the existential settled deep into his chest. With a heavy air of resentment and resign, Damon cut across the crowd of disembarking passengers and made his way to the Enterprise car rental station situated at the opposite end of the SeaTac terminal he found himself in.

He hated airports. The hustle and bustle, the desperate clinging of loved ones forced to say goodbye – it was enough to give a vampire an aneurism, or at the very least, a migraine.

_Fucking Stefan_, he thought. His baby brother was so fond of blaming him for all his problems, and mayhap there was some truth to that, but he all too easily forgot the sacrifices Damon had and continued to make for him.

Stefan's reputation as a ripper had been absolute, so much so that he'd been given a new name, the Ripper of Monterrey. Damon remembered those years better than he'd like to. The time he'd spent chasing after his brother, always one step behind him while cleaning up his messes to the best of his ability, compelling towns to forget so their secret wouldn't be unleashed... it was something Stefan had never known he'd done for him and Damon wanted to keep it that way.

To that end, it probably wasn't fair for him to blame Stefan. He'd never known about the deal Damon had made in order to spare his life, for killing as inconspicuously as Stefan had, it hadn't taken long for him to turn up on the Volturi's radar.

_Fucking Cold Ones_, he now thought as he compelled the desk attendant to give him the fastest car on the lot.

Thinking him to be some crazed newborn, they'd sent a party to dispose of Stefan, but Damon had intercepted them and had made his point clear: if anyone ever killed his little brother, it'd be him. A few dismembered limbs lit afire had driven that message home, as well.

So instead of killing Stefan, they'd bargained with Damon. If they truly had wanted the ripper gone, it would have happened. While Damon was stronger and faster than them, and his talents innumerable as opposed to limited, the Cold Ones could destroy him with sheer numbers alone.

But Aro was a greedy fucker and saw the potential in Damon as an ally. So instead of an execution, there'd been a treaty of sorts. Damon would continue to clean up after his brother with a little help from Demetri, a tracker who would enable them to catch up with Stefan with little to no lag, making the cover-up go even faster. Their precious little secret would be maintained and Stefan spared, but in exchange, Damon had to ally himself with the three kings.

He'd outright refused to serve on the guard, and perhaps realizing that forcing him to would have been like keeping a wild tiger in a child's playpen, they'd accepted him as something more of a contract employee. Occasionally, they'd have need of someone on the New America to dole out justice, and Damon found the idea of being a contracted hit-man far more favorable than a mere servant.

As if he'd bow to anyone but himself.

So decades after his brother's bloody version of the ice capades, Damon found himself still cleaning up after him, taking care of him in a way he'd never be thanked or acknowledged for... not that he wanted the recognition. He had nothing to prove to Stefan.

Nothing to prove to Elena.

_I love Stefan. __It'__s always gonna be Stefan_... Well wasn't that just a kick in the teeth.

Yet again his brother had bested him and if he wasn't so bitter about it, he'd have raised the proverbial glass in toast. As it was, he didn't have the energy to pretend to care anymore. He was tired, completely exhausted by things in Mystic Falls. A weariness that shouldn't be possible for an immortal to experience made Damon feel stretched thin. He was like a loose thread caught from a sweater, constantly being played with and tugged at until finally the scissors came out and _snip, snip._ It was all smiles and goodbye, so long, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.

_Perhaps it__'__s better this way_, Damon thought as he made his way to jet black Chevy Camaro he'd scored from the desk jockey. His feelings for Elena had been completely genuine, but he doubted things would've ever truly worked between them. They were too different. She'd told him that she'd cared for him, of course, but Damon doubted the validity of that statement. He didn't think she was exactly lying, but Elena had never really understood him. She'd looked at him with the aim of changing him, converting him to the greater good. She didn't have _feelings_ – he sneered at the word – for Damon, she had them for who she thought he should be.

Where Elena saw things in black and white, Damon saw ever hue in-between. Things would've become strained between them at some point. He could imagine them having some sort of stupid argument about morals – _blah, blah, blah_ – and both of them would be unwilling to compromise, never agreeing or seeing things from the other's perspective.

Sometimes love just wasn't enough and while opposites may attract, they often failed to stick.

Not that his recent realization on the plane ride made things any easier. It still sucked to be runner-up, second place and first loser. His heart was a tad bruised but it was his ego more than anything that suffered the wound.

Everything was just coming up Saint Stefanie and it was all, _p__oor Stefan and his terrible __burden of fight__ing__ his __thirst for human blood; poor Stefan and his tragic Dear Diary soul; poor Stefan __having Damon as a brother_.

It made Damon sick. Perhaps Aro's timing had been perfect then, because even though Damon found himself _once again_ protecting his baby brother, he'd have probably staked him himself if he had to see his brooding Easter Island headed face just one. More. Time.

Maybe not in the heart, but definitely the stomach which would still hurt like a bitch.

But Stefan was lucky because instead of cleaning of messes in Mystic Falls, Aro Volturi had sent Damon on a left turn to Forks, Washington to check on a family of Cold Ones.

_Family_, that was laughable. He'd met the Cullens a couple times before but hadn't been overly fond of veggie vamps. The feeling had been entirely mutual, too. They were just a bunch of bible thumpers with no backbone – all for trying to convert wayward souls to their disgusting eating habits.

Except for the Major. He'd heard of Jasper even in his human days in the Civil War and that guy was alright. He had a wicked sense of humor that matched Damon's and if his kind of vamp was capable of it, they'd have gotten along perfectly shooting whiskey in a Southern bar. He didn't care for his Psychic Pixie, however. Her friendliness was very transparent. Whenever Aro insisted he visit them, he'd catch Alice staring accusingly at him whenever she thought he wasn't looking. Probably blaming him for some future offense he hadn't even committed yet.

The Hulk, Emmett, wasn't terrible, but his pretty pretty princess wife was a wretched bitch who had the poor man's balls in her coin purse. She never let him come out to play when Damon was over.

And if he had to hear Carlisle and Esme preach to him in their soft, dulcet, reprimanding tones that grated on his brain like nails in a blender, he might just slaughter the whole fucking town to make a point.

But none of them were as bad as Emo-ward and his _I__ have no soul_ routine, a favorite on his record of greatest hits. Aro was particularly interested in acquiring him for the guard – him, the Major, and the Psychic Pixie, he wanted the complete set – which was why he constantly sent Damon on these little ambassador trips. But Damon had grown rather fond of Demetri and Felix and wasn't sure he could subject the poor guys to Edward's whinging. It was bad enough Damon had to suffer his religious rhetoric when he came calling, not to mention the constant headache he always left with after keeping that nosy fucker out of his head, but he doubted the pretentious ass would last even a week in the Volturi Guard. Maybe if the guy could get laid he'd ease up, or maybe if he made a date with his left hand if he was so hard up for women. Emo-ward was wound up so tight it was only a matter of time before he snapped and it would likely doom him and his family.

Damon was not, indeed, looking forward to this visit.

The small thinning of trees announced the Cullens driveway, and Damon steeled himself for a minimum of twenty-four hours with the annoyingly do-good coven.

Much to his surprise, however, he did not see the family lined up and waiting for him on the porch as they always had done before. The Pixie always knew when he'd be making a visit and, proper vampires they were, they'd always meet him out front with their barely restrained hostility and fake smiles.

This time, though, the only thing in front of the house was a clunker of a motorbike that looked well cared for even in its old age. Not exactly a standard in the Cullen fleet of vehicles.

Damon frowned, throwing the car into park and getting out cautiously, his every sense heightening as he prepared for a trap. Perhaps he was jaded for thinking so, but a vamp didn't get to be his age by going into these types of situations only _hoping_ for the best. Damon _guaranteed_ it ended up for the best; the best for him, at any rate.

A feminine grunt sounded, followed by the sharp tinkling of broken glass.

"Take that, you fucking prude!"

Damon's lips twitched upwards before he could catch himself.

"How do you like me now, Rosie?" Another grunt, a whoosh through the air, and the sudden crack of wood splintering.

"I bet you'd find this funny, Em!"

More glass breaking.

"I hope you can see _this_, stupid fucking pixie!"

The echo of wood and glass shattering covered Damon's amused snort. Slowly, he followed the sound of an obviously enraged woman, but stilled as she abruptly rounded the corner, her small, attractive body heaving as she dragged an aluminum baseball bat behind her.

The girl was positively seething and Damon was almost afraid she'd start to literally breathe fire. She'd yet to notice him so he took his time scanning her lithe form and decided that what he saw agreed with him, very much so. Her heart-shaped face was haloed by wild, unrestrained brown curls and her petite body had very inviting curves.

Oddly enough, Damon's desire was increased exponentially when she raised the baseball bat and brought it down in a hard, angry arc to the potted plants along the doorway.

"You weren't too bad, Jasper." _Swing_ – another plant down. "Trying to kill me aside." _Swing_. "But you know what else that can tell me what I'm feeling?" _Swing, swing, swing_. "A fucking mood ring!"

Even though the potted plants were thoroughly destroyed, she brought the bat down over and over again, mumbling under her breath, "Stupid fucking Esme... Goddamn Carlisle... oh yeah, you see me as a daughter alright. Never knew it was so easy to abandon your fucking kids!"

His curiosity well and truly piqued, Damon decided introductions were in order and quietly came up behind her, his hand reaching out and stilling the bat mid-swing.

"Easy there, slugger," he said.

"Jesus fuck!" she shouted, jerking as though electrocuted as her eyes met his for all of two seconds before she lost her balance and tripped on her ass.

"Jesus? That's funny, most women call me God," he smirked as he leaned on the bat and looked down at her.

She lifted a brow and Damon was pleased by the snark he saw in her eyes. "Wow, conceited much? I'll take my bat back now, thank you." She stuck out her hand with an air of demand.

He nearly snorted. "You do know that vandalism is against the law, right?"

A secret smile curled her lips. "I've got a man on the inside; I'll be fine. Now give me my bat or make yourself useful and smash that fucking hummingbird feeder – like birds would be stupid enough to come near this house."

His own brow lifted at that. She clearly knew what the Cullens were – which Aro would be positively giddy to hear about – but he had to wonder if she knew what he himself was.

Probably not, he decided. She was too at ease insulting him.

"This feeder here?" he asked flippantly, lifting the bat and giving it a good swing.

The hummingbird feeder shattered, the red tinted nectar spraying out, giving its death a rather bloody appeal.

"Not bad," she smiled impishly.

Damon returned the compliment. "You're not too bad yourself, Hank Aaron."

"Who?"

He scoffed. "Don't they teach you kids anything these days?"

Her head tilted. "I know how to drive my foot up your ass if you don't give me my bat back."

"Feisty," he tsk'd, but held the bat out.

She grabbed it while rolling her eyes and Damon used the bat to propel her up and closer to him instead of relinquishing it to her.

"Cute," she said dryly.

"I know, I'm adorable."

"Who are you and why are you here?" she snapped.

"I could really ask the same of you, can't I?"

"Well," she tugged the bat out of his embrace only because he let her. "I should think it was obvious why I'm here."

She brought the bat down again, this time on one of the lights lining the front walkway.

His smirk grew. He _liked_ her. "Yes, but that doesn't tell me who you are."

"I'm Bella," she chirped as the bat came down on another light.

"Bella?" he said, thinking the name to be entirely appropriate.

"Short for Isabella."

"Isabella..." he trailed off thoughtfully before he grinned wickedly. "So you have a little Italian in you."

She bit her lip and swung again. "Um, no actually. I don't."

"Pity. Would you like some?"

She froze, the bat raised in the air and poised to come down on an innocent lawn gnome. Her wide, doe-like eyes blinked innocently at him and Damon was positive that the classic come on had gone over her head.

That is until a flirtatious grin bloomed on her face and she said, "No thanks. If I'm gonna have an Italian in me, I'd prefer him to be big."

That time he did snort a laugh, especially as Bella's face reddened as though embarrassed by her own daring. But still, her chin took a stubborn lift to the air as she asked, "Are you going to tell me your name now that you've offered to have sex with me?"

He pursed his lips. "I thought I told you – women call me God."

She gave him a grudging smile. "And what do other people call you?"

"That would be Damon," he gave a mocking bow at the introduction. "Now will you tell me why you're bashing up the Cullen house?"

The question spurred her on again and the lawn gnome that had been given a brief reprieve was slaughtered, Bella giving a self-satisfied nod at the act. "It's for anger management purposes."

Damon shot her a dubious look. "Really? You're destroying their house to help with your anger issues?"

"Yep," she said, the bat finding home on another planted pot that had missed her earlier attack. "It's all very symbolic. Destroy the house, work out my resentment. Still wish it was their stupid, sparkly faces I was hitting, though. Not that it'd do any good."

"Because their vampires?" he asked dismissively, his sharp eyes watching her every move.

"Poor excuses for vampires," she grumbled almost inaudibly.

"Well, I'd have to agree with you there," he smirked as her body froze at his words. There was no way he should've been able to hear her,e knew, not if he was human.

Bella turned and eyed him warily. Damon saw her hands flex and tighten around the bat. "It wouldn't do any good," he offered.

She frowned. "What wouldn't?"

He smiled widely. "Hitting me with the bat."

The look she gave him was observant and calculating. "Then what would do any good?"

His expression was just as thoughtful as simply said, "A stake to the heart."

She blinked owlishly. Her body was frozen again, and Damon was worried that he'd broken her until she muttered, "Fucking figures," and went up towards the front door, swinging the bat harder than he'd seen her do yet at the porch light.

There was a satisfying sound of metal crunching as it broke.

"You're a vampire?" she half-asked, half-stated.

Damon followed her path of destruction up to the front door. "That's right."

Refusing to look at him, she nodded to the door and said, "Then do me a favor and break this door down. I'd crawl through one of the broken windows but with my luck I'd slit my wrists on one of the shards."

"There's so much anger in you," he said lowly, almost subconsciously. "What in the hell did the Cullens do to you?"

The instant his words registered, Damon could see it – the flicker behind the fire of rage in her eyes snuffed out by a deep sorrow. When she looked at him again, he thought she looked wounded and broken, a shadow of the confident, snarky and angry girl who had been beating a house to death.

He found he wanted that other girl back, wanted more of the fire even if she tried to burn him.

"I've got the door, piccina. Stand back."

She shuffled awkwardly to the side and Damon was mildly annoyed by the way she kept her eyes to the ground. It made her look even smaller than she already was, smaller and weak.

Channeling his newfound anger, Damon brought his foot up and kicked the door in, a part of him feeling a bit like a badass for it even though he'd done plenty worse over the years.

"Nothing like a little breaking and entering to add to our rap sheet, eh? What will we destroy first?" he asked lightly.

As he'd hoped, Bella's head lifted and the fire sparked to life in her eyes once more. Damon found himself entranced by the heat there, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

"Oh I know exactly what needs to go first," she hissed, marching past him and into the stale house.

Sheets covered the chairs and tables, but the dust was minimum so Damon suspected they'd left maybe only a couple months ago, and in a hurry, too, since there was still a certain lived-in feel to the house despite the air being stagnant.

Bella paid him no mind and marched purposefully to what he knew to be Edward's grand piano. Grabbing a corner of the sheet, Bella yanked it off with a flourish, her teeth gritting when the gleaming black instrument was bared to her eyes.

Her eyes bored into it and whatever she saw there was for her own mind, but Damon didn't doubt now that the majority of her rage was reserved for Edward Cullen.

"I'm no good for you, huh?" she whispered, lost in thought. Damon was relatively certain she'd forgotten he was even there.

"Well you were wrong, asshole. It was _you_ who wasn't good enough!"

Then she proceeded to murder the piano in a grand display of fury. By the end of her smashing, the instrument was only barely recognizable and Damon was quite impressed.

"Feel better?" he lightly asked.

"Tons," she said dryly. Damon's eyes watched as her chest heaved while she tried to catch her breath.

"Good. Then I believe we can get down to business."

He flicked off the sheet over the couch and took a seat. It was time for some answers.

"Where are the Cullens?" he asked first.

She rolled her eyes. "Gone."

"To where?"

Her teeth gritted. "They didn't leave me a forwarding address."

"Hm," he said noncommittally. "And how do you know what they are?"

"He confirmed it when I confronted him, but really, he all but begged me to figure it out. Saving someone's life in an impossible situation and then telling that person they merely remembered it wrong is like an open invitation to an investigation."

"Hm," he said again. He knew exactly who she meant by _he_ and Damon decided he was already looking forward to giving Aro his report. The whole lot of them would have to go to Volterra to answer for their crime of letting a human that knew their secret live, but remembering the hollow look to her eyes moments ago, Damon didn't really care if Aro decided to tear them apart and burn the pieces. It wasn't really his problem.

"Will you tell me why you're here?"

Damon thought about it and decided to answer truthfully. "I was asked to pay Carlisle a visit on behalf of a very old friend of his. He'll be... disappointed... by the turn of events."

She eyed him warily. "Are you talking about the Volturi?"

His eyes snapped up and instantly he appeared in front of her in a blur too fast for her human eyes to perceive. Her heart rate sky-rocketed, but Damon had to hand it to her. She didn't flinch from him. "And who told you of them, piccina?"

Despite the fear he knew she was feeling, Bella sighed as if only mildly annoyed. "I'm right, aren't I? You work for them?"

Narrowing his eyes, he gave her a small nod in the affirmative.

"That's just be my luck."

He looked at her disbelievingly. "You are the oddest human I've ever met."

She nodded. "I get that a lot."

Tilting his head to the side, he studied her. "You do realize that once I make my report it'll be your death sentence. The Volturi will kill you."

To his amazement, she sniggered. "They'll have to get in line. I've already got a deranged vampire who wants my head and she's not in Italy so she'll probably get here first."

"Do you now?" he asked curiously.

"Sure do," she smiled. It wasn't a happy look, but one he recognized as coming from someone who had accepted the inevitability of death but still decided to go down fighting.

But if there was indeed a Cold One after her, it wouldn't matter how hard she fought. The girl might as well already be dead.

"Do me a favor?" she asked flippantly, and he could detect a tremor of real emotion behind the levity, a tremble that bespoke she was well aware of her death sentence.

His voice was soft, almost gentle, as he said, "I don't typically do favors for strangers."

"Consider it my last request," she smiled that laugh-less smile again.

He inclined his head to show he'd hear her out.

"When you make your report to them," she paused, almost indecisive, until she steeled herself and muttered darkly, "Make sure you tell them everything. About how the Cullens invited a human girl into the world of vampires and the supernatural only to abandon her, leaving her like a defenseless pet to be culled by a deranged mate whose wrath they had incited." She stopped again as tears thickened her words. "The Volturi might not care about the human girl, but each and everyone of the Cullens broke that stupid law and should be made to pay for that, if not for my death."

Something flickered within him – not the switch – but something remarkably similar. Once felt, it was as unstoppable as the sunrise, unmovable as the mountains. It swept through his body and Damon noticed his limbs tingled pleasantly, his body humming as the epiphany hit him.

_Dear God_, he thought as his eyes never moved from her tragically beautiful and angry face. It was like looking in a mirror. Her very being resonated deeply within him so suddenly that he knew he wouldn't let her bet killed. Not by the deranged mate she mentioned, and not by Aro.

But he would follow her request. He was unable to take out his own rage on Katherine for her slights against him, but it would be therapeutic indeed to make the Cullens – Emo-ward especially – pay for their eerily similar offenses to her.

Hell, it sounded like just the task to set him right again.

A wicked idea came to him and Bella frowned in mild concern as he finally answered her request, "No."

"No?"

He shook his head. "No. I have a better idea."

She huffed in annoyance and he found the action – _cute_? Holy fuck, this girl...

Before she could make some sort of snippy remark that he himself probably would make in her position, Damon continued, "Come with me and tell them yourself."

The look she pinned him with clearly told him she thought he was crazy. "Look," she said placatingly. "I know I'm a few marbles short lately – knowing death is comimg at any second will do that to a girl – but I'm not crazy enough to go before the Volturi and let them kill me."

"Why not?" he asked lightly. "You're dead either way. What have you got to lose? Don't you want the satisfaction of taking them with you yourself? You should fight your own battles, piccina. Not ask strangers to do it for you."

"Hm," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose if I left with you it would draw Victoria away and Charlie would be safe."

He didn't know nor care who this Charlie fellow was, but Damon sensed victory. "Come on, angry bird. I'll look after you."

She snorted. "That's not exactly reassuring, Mr. Some New Kind Of Vampire I Didn't Know Existed Until Ten Minutes Ago. Besides, even though I'm dead doesn't mean I'm in a hurry to die."

A grin stretched across his face and Damon brought himself closer to her, smiling as she involuntarily wet her lips. "Dead is relative. You don't have to die to be dead exactly."

Her eyes were cloudy as she stared at his lips. "Who said what now?" she asked distractedly.

He smiled and felt the anticipation of a new adventure in life settling into him. "It's turn or die, piccina. That'll be your choice. But then again, you already know what you'll choose, don't you, _Isabella_," he purred.

"I don't want to be like _them_," she hissed, but still, her eyes lingered on him and he drew closer to her.

"Now whoever said you would be? I can make you _like me_."

Her breathing quickened when he placed his hands on her hips. "You're kind of like the devil, aren't you, Damon?"

He smirked. "Most definitely, although I don't play the fiddle."

She smiled faintly, her own arms resting lightly on his. Uncertainty lingered in the tentative touch, but Damon already knew what her answer was going to be. Really, it wasn't that hard of a choice.

A soft giggle broke his thoughts and he watched her smirk softly. "He'll be so pissed," she said, sounding a touch delighted. "He never wanted me changed, but here he's gone and done it anyways, as surely as if he'd bitten me himself. Too bad I didn't even get laid for my troubles."

His hands slipped down to her ass, pulling her against him and letting her feel his willingness to help her out with that little request. "You just say the word, piccina," he murmured, his lips tracing the arc of her neck.

"I don't put out on the first date," she teased, but her own lips pressed teasingly just under his jaw.

"Good thing we have an eternity then," he said.

When she didn't gainsay him, Damon knew the battle had been won. He would change Isabella; they'd go to Italy; and he'd help this broken, angry, beautiful woman find vindication against the Cullens with harsh Volturi justice.

He'd come to Forks grudgingly, dreading what he'd assumed he'd find there, thinking the disturbance to his life annoying, at best. Instead of a family of whiny vampires, though, he'd found his match in a human girl whose anger and snark reflected him and his own past so perfectly. Isabella was just the right kind of impulsive change for him and Damon was eager to following this new direction wherever it may lead them.

Though, he didn't look forward to Aro's taking credit for it.

_Fucking Cold Ones_, he thought again even as his lips finally sealed over hers.

The kiss was starving, each of them hungry to devour the other and Damon surrendered as freely as Bella submitted, each of them demanding but giving in return. The necessity to breathe was suddenly very irritating; he wanted to suffocate in her, but knew they'd have to come back up for air.

Eventually.

* * *

(A/N): _Piccina_ – Italian term of endearment meaning 'little one' or 'little girl.'

I don't plan on continuing this any time soon, if at all. I kind of like how it stands alone here, but I may consider doing a companion piece in Bella's POV to show her character development a bit more since she was very OOC.

Thanks again for reading – let me know what you think!


	2. Volterra

**This Left Feels Right: Volterra**

He was not overly alarmed when the summons arrived in the post.

The slightly yellowed parchment sealed with the classic red wax bearing the Volturi crest was not an unfamiliar missive to Carlisle Cullen. About once every half-century or so, his old friend would contact him and invite him and his family across the pond for a visit. He always politely declined and Aro would instead send one of his ambassadors to follow up with them, often times the snarky young Salvatore who enjoyed needling his children – Edward in particular – and their life would continue on its merry path.

With a weary sigh, Carlisle opened the missive but frowned reading it. It was worded far more formally than usual and with the tone of an order rather than an offer. Still, Carlisle went into his study and picked up the phone, dialing the long distant number to his old friend.

After being placed on hold by the human receptionist currently under their employ, Aro graced the other line with an airy, "Ah Carlisle. I've been expecting your call."

"Aro," Carlisle greeted neutrally. "I'm afraid I must once again send my regrets to your invitation. My family is in a delicate transition period and it would be unwise for us to travel at this time."

"For shame, Carlisle. I'm afraid it is I who must send regrets for the _invitation_, as you referred to it, is nothing such. I am not requesting your presence, I am demanding it."

"Demanding?" Carlisle frowned, his mind flying to the repercussions of that one word. He found himself wishing Alice was there to consult with, but she and Jasper had left earlier to go hunting. "I'm afraid I do not understand, old friend."

Aro's chuckle was drenched in dark amusement and Carlisle rather felt like he was the butt of a joke he was not privy to. "I am not contacting you as your _old friend_, Carlisle. I am contacting you as the king whom you owe fealty to, as do all of our kind. You will come to Volterra and you will bring your so-called family. This is not a request lightly made, but an order justly given. You have until the end of the month. If you do not come... Well, let us not visit such a path, _old friend_."

There was a click as Aro hung up.

Carlisle stared at the phone in his hand before limply hanging up when the dial tone announced the cut line. His vampire mind raced at dizzying speeds, calculating the meaning of this summons and Aro's cold reception. He always knew the Volturi did not approve of their lifestyle choices, but they'd never interfered before and he was curious as to the reason they'd concern themselves presently.

For that's what he presumed the summons to be about – their diet and their entwined lives with the humans. It could be nothing else, he determined, for his family observed the laws and always flew under the radar, both from the Volturi and the humans.

His mind touched on the image of the human girl he'd left behind and reminded him that, no... they had not always observed the Volturi laws. But Alice and Edward were adamant about the decision to leave, certain it would be safer for Bella and for them. He was certain their gifts gave truth to those claims and therefore dismissed the vague idea of the Volturi learning of her. There was no way the Volturi could have learned about her and her forbidden knowledge. No, there was no danger there, he assured himself. They'd simply have to avoid contact with Aro, and he was certain his friendship with him would aid in that endeavor.

He would just have to talk with Alice and cajole Edward out of his room. He'd been sulking ever since they'd left Forks, though the departure had been at his insistence. They'd have to snap him out of his funk if they were going to survive the trip to Italy – his gift would be a necessity in navigating their way out of whatever sort of dilemma they'd inadvertently found themselves in.

But Carlisle was positive they would make it out unscathed. His faith and confidence in his family's collective gifts and his certainty of their innocence was absolute. They would go to Volterra and be able to leave within the day, he was sure.

* * *

The sort of curveballs life threw at a person was funny, Bella decided as Damon's fingers trailed up the bare skin over her lower back, tracing her spine in a delicate design. It tickled lightly and she squirmed with a smothered giggle, Damon's chest answering with a deep, lazy chuckle. The satisfied rumble against her cheek was unfathomably comforting and made her arms tighten around his middle, hugging his naked body even more into her own.

A curveball like losing your virginity to a man you barely knew while thousands of feet up in the air...

Pressing her lips into Damon's neck, Bella smiled at the memory.

For so long she'd been chained by her insecurities. Even before meeting Edward, Bella had always felt a sense of inadequacy when she compared herself to her peers. It was not unnatural, though, to be insecure by the differences found between oneself and others, especially for a young teenage girl forced to grow up faster than her friends. Bella had always been unable to relate to them.

At first, it'd been a relief to find Edward and his family. For so long Bella had stumbled through life with a vague sense of something more on the horizon, something other than prom or the next big party that others her age concerned themselves with. Then Edward had come into her life with his intense stares and honeyed eyes, his silver tongue lulling her into the throes of first love even as she unknowingly surrendered her self-identity to him.

The constant kid gloves he'd treated her with, the patronizing way he'd blow off her opinion, and the secrets he kept – purely for her safety, he insisted – all of that underscored just how little he truly valued her.

Then, after she had blindly ignored all the Lifetime movie channel signs of an emotionally abusive relationship, he'd taken her out into the woods after her birthday fiasco and opened a Pandora's box of ugly truths. What had struck her the hardest that evening wasn't necessarily the poisoned words he'd spilled like acid across her heart, but the ease of which he uttered them.

From high upon the pedestal she'd placed him, Edward had more or less stuck his foot to her cheek and stomped her already fragile self-esteem into the ground until Bella collapsed in his wake, the glittering shards of her broken self scattering into the night. She'd lost herself that evening; lost herself the instant she'd met him, she'd come to realize after time.

To her shame, she'd let grief claim her so wholly she'd nearly needed to be hospitalized. That alone should've been enough to indicate how unhealthy her dependency on Edward had been, but it wasn't until the introduction of another mythical creature into her life that she'd snapped out of it.

Jake had been a great friend, but also a crutch she'd used to limp through the days after Edward and his family tossed her away. When he'd started avoiding her, Bella's anger had not only been at the loss of someone she considered a friend, but also the loss of the placebo effect his company offered. But when she confronted him, slapping Paul's arrogant face only to be faced with a giant sized wolf, Bella's already complicated life became that much more interesting.

It hadn't been Jake that had freed her of grief and introduced her to indignant fury; it'd been the pack's most volatile member, Paul. Where others treated her like a child at best and as a mental patient at worst, Paul had treated her with the same disrespect and caustic humor he bestowed upon everyone.

"Oh cry me a fucking river, vampire girl. You think you're the only one who's ever been dumped by her ex in a douche bag way? Wake up, princess – ain't nothing special or different about you other than the fact that your ex sparkles like a fucking disco ball in the sunlight."

Her initial response had been the classic knee-jerk reaction to say that he was wrong – he just didn't understand. But Paul maintained his position and the seed had been planted. With each passing meeting with him and the wolf pack, Bella dissected her relationship with Edward apart until she saw clearly the weed of his love in her heart. Paul was right. She wasn't special, not in this at least. In this instance, Edward was just like any other dick boyfriend who'd grown bored and abandoned his girl in the cruelest way possible to save face with himself.

With Paul's help, Bella grew stronger, her anger brighter. Then Victoria started her games and Bella knew the psycho vampire would eventually find her way through the wolves and get her misplaced revenge. Bella was going to die, soon she knew, and with the acceptance of the brevity of her life came a sort of freedom.

She went through a sort of abbreviated version of the stages of grief. She skipped denial and leapt straight into anger and with Paul's influence, she lingered there. The only guilt she felt was for the delusional wolves who seemed to think they could stop anyone and anything. She felt bad that she'd be their first official causality and her guilt revolved more around the fact that they'd suffer her loss hard.

Her anger smothered her depression and she knew bargaining would be useless against a deranged vampire, so all that was left was acceptance and that came almost hand-in-hand with her anger. She railed against her fate as easily as she accepted the inevitability of it.

But where her fury truly burned brightest wasn't on the certainty of her death, but on her apparent stupidity in getting involved with Edward in the first place. Hindsight had hardened her into a bitter bitch when it came to the Cullens. She wanted nothing more than for them to suffer for their actions against her, each and every one of them.

In the end, though, she knew they would get off scott free. There was no way to find them, let alone hold them accountable for their crimes. After one night of lamenting such to Paul, it'd been his idea to take out her aggression against the Cullens on their perfect little house. He'd even offered to come with her despite the treaty, but she'd opted to go alone, unwilling for even him to see the vulnerability lingering underneath all her rage. She was done with being weak; it was time to find her strength.

And thank goodness she told him not to come because the day she took her dad's baseball bat and cracked the Cullen home open like a _piñata, she received a true treat._

_Damon Salvatore. His name alone made her body hum and she stretched lazily against him._

_Their attraction had been instant though she'd attempted to cover it with snark. __Come to find out it'd been a fruitless endeavor, because the one thing she quickly learned about Damon was that when he saw something he wanted, he went for it._

_An__d for __s__ome reason, he wanted her._

He'd more or less kidnapped her, willing though she'd been. After his revelation about another race of vampires and his offer to turn her, it'd been a whirlwind of steamy kisses, compelling her father, a dodgy phone call to the wolves and then they were off on a plane to Italy.

There'd been some disclosure early on during the flight, Damon giving her a vague explanation of who he was and his role within the Volturi. He hadn't said it in so many words, but he'd alluded to a similar heartbreak as her own and their instant kinship had only grown into a stronger form of affection. He'd held her hand the whole time, explaining the things Edward had left her to suffer in ignorance of, his nimble fingers leaving a trail of fire up and down her arm. Even that simple touch had her shivering with desire and Damon smirking at her suggestively like the playful devil he was.

"So..." he said after a brief pause. "Shall we join the mile high club?"

Though he'd said it as one would passively remark upon the weather, Bella knew there'd been a genuineness hidden behind the playfulness. She couldn't fault him for it too – ever since that kiss back in Forks and those stolen, lingering ones he kept pressing to her neck or shoulders, Bella'd been a lit fuse about to combust. Damon was not unaffected as well, his ice blue eyes fixing on her with the same intensity as a starving man looking at a buffet.

Again, that wild freedom acceptance afforded her reared its head. Despite his sincere plan to turn her once greeting the Volturi Kings, Bella knew her safety wasn't completely assured. Nothing was ever black and white when it came to the supernatural, so while she accepted Damon would do what he could, he wasn't infallible and she recognized that she could still be making her way to certain death.

And really, she didn't want to die a virgin.

"Sounds like fun," she'd thrown back just as casually, a smile tugging her lips upwards when he gave her a sharp double-take.

He'd treated her to another one of his penetrating looks. The way they were able to communicate without speaking was almost unnerving, but Bella used her eyes to tell him, yes – she was being absolutely serious, and no – she wasn't accepting his delicious offer out of some misplaced sense of gratitude.

Damon's head tilted as he took in her sincerity even if it was tainted by the jitters of knowing she was about to give it up to a near stranger in a public place. Oddly, the idea was particularly scintillating and Bella shivered lightly at the images her mind conjured.

A now familiar devilish smile slowly bloomed and Damon slipped his arm around her, bending his head to her ear to murmur, "Follow me, _piccina_. I'll show you how to really fly."

Lost in his arms in the cramped confines of the airplane bathroom, their limbs wrapped around each other even as they occasionally bumped an elbow or their head, Bella had not simply learned to fly, but had been set soaring. Despite the unglamorous location there'd been a certain romanticism to their first time having sex. Bella had blushed and moved with the awkward stiltedness of a virgin and Damon had compensated her willing but nervous movements with confident and reassuring touches. His hands, fingers, lips and tongue all had a language of their own, each caress of them setting her at ease even as it wound her up.

The image of him standing between her naked thighs, staring down at her with an uncharacteristically soft smile seared itself into her mind. When he entered her with a patient but persistent movement, a tiny part of her heart had broken off and implanted itself within him.

There was a vulnerability to sex, Bella discovered. No matter the blatant passion and basic urge to simply get off, there was a certain trust the act inspired. So when Damon closed his eyes and averted his face, there'd been no hesitation on her part to place her trembling hand on his check and redirect him back to her, smiling reassuringly when she saw what he'd been trying to hide. Dark veins surrounded his eyes which took on a red hue, his teeth elongated – the face of a true vampire meant to inspire fear.

Instead, she'd felt warmth and acceptance. Damon was a vampire – soon she would be too – it seemed silly to shy away from it. Slowly, she'd brought her hand up and gently touched a finger to one of his fangs causing Damon to hiss at the sensitiveness, his thrusting faltering before picking up a needy speed.

"Fuck," he'd growled, and everything within Bella had clenched tight until she felt his hand slip between them and rub directly above where they connected. It was like dropping a glass vase – she'd clenched even tighter around him and then shattered within his arms, only vaguely aware of his fangs sinking delicately into her neck and the pressure that came from him sucking deeply, drinking her blood.

Afterwards he'd seemed unsure of his actions and her reception to them – though he covered the emotion up with a casual nonchalance that would've fooled anyone else. But Bella had only thought it natural. It'd felt right to be with Damon that way, not only sexually, but for him to bite her, mark her.

Claim her.

At present, Damon's hand slipped beneath the sheet that covered them, his hand gripping the curve of her ass and pulling her suggestively against his arousal. Bella smothered her smile into his shoulder and thought about how nice it was to be unashamedly passionate with someone. There was not a surface in the Volturi castle Damon hadn't taken her against (or tried to – sometimes they were interrupted). They'd become somewhat of a running joke within the castle. Members of the guard would compare notes on where they'd caught them together and in what various state of undress they'd been in – a competition of sorts that had amused even the Kings.

Bella remembered her first meeting with Aro, Caius and Marcus with a hint of fondness. For all her worry, it'd gone remarkably well. Aro had been intrigued by her silent mind and Caius had been entirely too amused by her bloodthirsty anger for the Cullens, as well as pleased that she'd handed him the opportunity to take the pious coven to task. Even Marcus, who she knew to be nothing more than a husk of a man after the loss of his mate, had cracked the tiniest sliver of a smile at them. His eyes had flicked between her and Damon, a small light igniting behind his empty gaze when the latter had let out an impressive growl at Demetri's offer to turn her.

After the initial meeting and acceptance, Damon had wasted no time in taking her to his preferred guest room and fucking her senseless, turning her in the process.

At last a vampire, Bella finally knew peace. She'd never wanted to be turned simply for love, but because she truly thought that vampire life was for her – and how right she'd been. She'd taken to her new life with an ease and gusto that had Damon damn near panting behind her, always wanting her.

And she was always happy to give herself to him. In fact, since her change, it'd been damn near impossible to leave him alone and she felt a bit like a cat in heat. Bella had no trouble adjusting to her vampire instincts, letting her lust for Damon take over whenever she felt the urge (which was nearly every second), but when they first had sex after her change, even she was unsettled when she'd sunk her teeth into his neck mid-orgasm, Damon mirroring her at the same exact moment. She'd been mildly confused afterward, though not apologetic, and she suspected Damon knew more than the pat answer he gave her being a young vampire unable to control herself. After all, he'd bitten her too, and he was far from a young vampire.

But she'd let it slide, way more focused on the imminent arrival of the Cullens and just entirely too happy that Damon seemed to want her as much as she wanted him. In fact, his desire for her had also increased with her change. He'd become damn near possessive of her, constantly making sure she smelled of him. He'd even tore of Demetri's arm when the guard had offered to let Bella use him to slake her lust. There'd been not an ounce of desire in her for anyone but Damon and she'd been prepared to jokingly write him off, but Damon had moved so quickly he'd been but a blur even to her new vampire eyes.

"Mine," he'd impressively growled, tossing Demetri's severed arm down the hall. The guard had made an immediate escape and Damon had turned to Bella, his chest heaving deeply and his eyes red and underscored with black veins.

"Mine," he'd hissed again, moving to her and pushing her up against the wall. She'd moaned welcomingly as he'd slipped their clothes aside and found himself in her, fucking her out in the open where anyone could come across them. She hadn't minded, even almost wished someone would see them, because as much as he liked to proclaim her as his, she was constantly doing the same.

Damon may have the need to drench her in his scent, but something within her was deeply satisfied with the knowledge that she always returned the favor. It was _her_ fingers that gave him his sex hair, _her_ teeth that left a mark on his neck. He carried it proudly, always uncovered for all to see. She did the same with his and they were constantly refreshing them as they healed, so much so that the wound started to scar a silvery white that shone like a beckon on their perfect skin.

Yes, something was definitely going on there, Bella was sure of it, but her thoughts scattered again as Damon's hand continued to trail over her naked body.

"You know," he murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. "We haven't _visited_ the library yet."

The extra emphasis on the word visit left no doubt to what he was insinuating. "Well, that truly is a shame," she smiled, twisting over him and trailing her fingers down until she wrapped them around his arousal. He rewarded her with a moaning gasp that had her stomach clenching in desire. She wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn't want him and decided likely not. "There's some studying I've been _dying_ to do," she whispered, bending down and licking her mark on his neck.

He smirked up at her. "Sounds like my kind of subject, _piccina_."

And without even bothering with grabbing clothes to change into, Damon wrapped them up in their sheets and whisked her giggling self away to the library.

For some studying. Some much needed... studying.

* * *

The Volturi Castle was much as Carlisle's perfect memory recalled even if the hospitality was somewhat colder than usual.

There was a stirring of unease in the back of his mind when Jane and Alec smiled at him and his family; their expressions implied that they were in on some joke and Carlisle's earlier certainty at their safety wavered as he began to worry they were at the butt of it.

"I can't see anything," Alice whispered, a small hint of uncertainty behind the words. "It's completely blank like something is blocking my visions. Something I can't see around."

Jane's smile had widened and when Edward chimed in with a moody, "Their thoughts are blocked," and Alec snickered, Carlisle's worry increased tenfold.

"Jane, Alec," he called to them quietly as they followed them to the thrown room where Aro insisted on having public meetings. "We have traveled a long way on order from Aro – won't you please enlighten us on the meaning behind our summons?"

"No, Carlisle," Jane smiled gleefully, a truly terrifying sight. "We won't tell you. You will have to speak with the Masters as it is their business, not our own, that brings you here."

"Come now, Jane," Carlisle said in his most reasonable tone. "We are all friends here. There is no call for formality."

Her eyes burned coldly. "I see no friends here, Carlisle and I suggest you keep your tongue until you are bidden to speak."

He fell silent with a worrisome sigh, looking to each member of his family with what he hoped was a reassuring expression. They all seemed to accept the false sense of security he offered, all except Jasper. The blonde haired vampire wore a stony expression and walked with military precision, his eyes continuously scanning for anything he could deem a threat.

Turning from his family, Carlisle followed Jane and Alec into the thrown room, all casual chatter halting at their entrance.

"Master," Jane smiled to Aro. "The Cullens have finally arrived."

"Ah yes, thank you dear one," Aro gifted Jane with a polite smile that had her preening before he turned back to the Cullens. "Carlisle, old friend! Any longer and I would have suspected you were reluctant to follow through with your summons. Suspected that perhaps you and your little _family_," he sneered the word, "had something to hide."

"Aro, Caius, Marcus," Carlisle inclined his head to each king before addressing Aro solely. "Of course my family and I have nothing to hide and we are indeed confused about your strongly worded invitation."

Aro tsk'd reprovingly. "Is that so, Carlisle? I find myself... disappointed. If you had perhaps confessed your sins you may have been granted some leniency, but alas, it wounds me so to hear such lies from your mouth."

Frowning, Carlisle said, "Lies, Aro? What lies have I spoken here today?"

Snorting, Caius leaned forward with a growl. "Do not play innocent with us, Carlisle. Charges have been brought forward against you and your coven. You have broken the law and justice will be served today."

Fear gripped him as the image of a human girl flashed behind his mind. He knew his family thought of Bella too because they at once started shifting awkwardly, Edward sitting up from his morose slouch and taking a more interested expression in the proceedings.

"I believe we have the right to face our accuser," Carlisle stalled as fear for his family and the girl they left behind finally took root.

"Why I'm so glad you remembered that, Carlisle," Aro fairly giggled. "Jane, be a dear and go fetch our friends so that Carlisle and his little family may understand the gravity of their situation."

Jane smiled. "Yes master."

"Oh and Jane, dearest – be sure to approach cautiously. Our friend won't take kindly to the interruption of his claim, as I am sure he is currently reaffirming."

"Yes," she smirked in amusement. "He seems to want to reaffirm it often and as publicly as possible."

"Oh to be young again," Aro said dreamily, a dark twinkle in his eye.

Carlisle tightened his arm around his wife and for the first time since talking to Aro over the phone and receiving the demand for their presence, he felt a very real tendril of fear for himself and his family.

* * *

While he'd initially been furious at her interruption, Damon couldn't help but smirk gleefully at Jane as he followed her into the throne room. He'd sent Bella off to freshen up, but only after securing her explicit promise not to shower. He wanted his scent to be unmistakable and overpowering. Damon himself refused to make himself decent. In fact, he only donned a pair of black slacks and a half-buttoned black shirt before following Jane, his feet bare as he wandered through the castle.

Truly, Damon couldn't fault Bella a few moments to compose herself. While she had reflected the same malicious eagerness he'd felt at the news of the Cullens arriving, the upcoming meeting would weigh far more heavily on her than him.

And that fact alone set him even more on edge, ready to tear and render those responsible for her pain.

As they approached the doors, he overtook Jane and slammed them open carelessly.

"You rang?" he deadpanned.

Aro shot him an indulgent look of amusement. "Damon! But where is your better half?"

Smirking, his eyes swept over the Cullens not even bothering to hide his loathing for them. "She needed a moment to freshen up, Aro. I'm sure you understand – woman..." he gave a mocking roll of his eyes.

"Ah yes," Aro clapped. "They can be so demanding. We shall get started without her as I'm sure you're eager to give your testimony and then return to your... previous activities."

Bella's flushed face mid-orgasm flashed in his mind and he felt himself twitch in his pants. "Most eager," he admitted.

"Damon," Carlisle finally interrupted his peaceful voice already irritating him. "It's been a while."

"Not long enough," he said bluntly and then deciding to lay it all out in the open so that he and Bella could get back to their favorite workout, he stated, "I've brought testimony to your kings that you and your little family have broken the law."

With a quiet gulp, Carlisle said, "Whatever do you mean, Damon? We have always obeyed the laws of our kind."

Snorting, Damon said bluntly, "Oh so that hot little brunette I ran into in Forks wasn't your little human pet? Because she seemed to know _a lot_ about you and your kind."

Their reaction was instant, growls and protests overlapping shameful admittance and pleas for Bella's safety. Jasper was notably silent, his expression stoic as he made no attempt to confirm or deny the accusation.

"Control yourselves," Caius snarled. "Though they may seem informal let it be clear that these charges are very real and have already been confirmed. This trial is a formality. We already know of your guilt and you will suffer accordingly.

"What did you do with her? Where is Bella?" Edward foolishly snarled.

Damon grinned in anticipation. "What _didn't_ I do with her..." he trailed off with a suggestive lift of his brow.

Edward roared in anger and went to leap, but Jasper's quick moving saved the boy from the beating Damon would've delivered. Damon gave a sigh of disappointment, but quickly cheered up. There was time for that yet.

"Please," Esme spoke up. "Please do not harm her. We will take her with us and ensure that law will be upheld. She won't tell anyone about us."

Aro tilted his head at her. "And will you change her?"

"Absolutely not," Edward objected. "I won't damn her soul."

Damon snorted. "Then you're a fool... and too late anyways."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What the fuck do you think I mean, Emo-ward?" Damon sneered. "You may be incapable of upholding the law, but I am not. She's already been taken care of."

They gasped in horror. "You – you killed her?" Alice whimpered.

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "Yes I did – and how delicious she was too."

Edward roared and dropped to his knees, dry sobbing his denial.

_Fucking pansy_, Damon thought. Here he was, thinking the so-called love of his life was murdered and instead of fucking taking care of business he collapsed like someone like some sort of drama queen about to deliver some woeful soliloquy.

"She was never yours to have," Damon found himself saying. "You didn't deserve her."

Jasper tilted his head at him curiously, but before he was able to speak, a new voice rang out, "Boy, it's more depressing than a funeral in here. Who died?"

_Oh she is just perfect_, Damon grinned to himself, knowing that she was very well aware of what had been taking place.

"Bella!" Alice beamed and Edward stared at her like some sort of angel.

_This angel's halo is held up by horns_, Damon thought as she swayed her hips while sauntering towards him. She was a delicious picture of innocent and vixen, the intoxicating combination making him harden faster than a thirteen year old boy just hitting puberty.

_I will never have enough of her_, the idea struck him damn near stupid. He would always want her with an intensity that bordered on obsessive compulsive and he'd love every single minute of their eternity together for it. _Fuck yeah_, he thought as she slipped beside him, her entire side pressing into him. The contact was enough to quench the need to have her again. Barely.

"Ah Isabella! There you are, dearest! Come, come – do give us your testimony against the Cullens," Aro beamed looking absolutely delighted.

"Testimony," Esme frowned.

"Why yes, Esme. Damon gave account of your crimes, but it is Isabella formerly lodging the complaint."

"But why, Bella? Why would you do this to us?" Alice frowned.

Bella snorted. "Why not? Truly, I haven't done anything to you – it's your own actions that have brought you here."

"How could you say that? Do you not realize the implications of your actions?" Alice balked.

Damon felt Isabella stiffen beside him and had to suppress a rumbling growl. "Do not," she bit out, "talk to me like some sort of errant child. I know exactly what I've done by giving the Volturi my statement and it is no more than you deserve."

"Bella," Esme whimpered, but his girl remained unmoved.

"No," she cut her off. "You don't get to play the part of the wounded mother. You all left me alone, a mere human in the supernatural world to fend for herself. It was only a matter of time before Victoria found me, started playing a game of cat and mouse. I was lucky that Damon found me. If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead by now."

"You're welcome," he said snidely.

"Please, we didn't know," Esme stuttered. "Edward wanted to protect you, protect your soul, so we left. We didn't know!"

Bella tilted her head, her eyes sliding over to Jasper accusingly. "Maybe you didn't, but some of you should've known better."

Jasper looked to the floor, the only acknowledgment he would give her of the truth of her words.

"Bella," Edward finally breathed, coming out of his stupor. "My Bella."

What little restraint Damon had reserved snapped. Pulling her tightly to him, he let out an impressive snarl and hissed, "_Not_ yours. She was _never_ yours, little boy."

Satisfaction filled him as Edward drew back like the coward he was, but it was only a second later that the tween vampire made another mistake.

"She's my mate," Edward insisted. "The law doesn't apply to mates. Release her to me and we'll protect. I'll protect you, Bella."

They said when anger took hold of most people, they saw in red. But Damon's vision lacked that particular hue as a fury unmatched by anything he'd ever felt in the past assailed him. White – white heat flared across his vision and for just a second, he saw nothing, heard nothing as every single one of his sense honed onto the foolish boy trying to steal _his_ mate. _She was his_.

Before he could take action, Isabella's hand slipped into his and the white fire eased out of his gaze to be replaced by a warm contentment at feeling her so fully pressed against him. _Mine_, he purred inwardly, his hand curling around hers. _All mine_.

"She is not your mate," a gruff whisper sounded.

All eyes went to Marcus who rarely, if ever, spoke at such proceedings.

"Your bond was superficial and has already severed on her end. You cling to it like a child clutches a security blanket. She is not yours, Edward Cullen."

"But she is – she's my mate!"

Damon growled and only managed to spit out one word, "_Mine_."

"Ah yes," Aro interjected. "You see? Isabella is quite settled as Damon's mate. Indeed, you can confirm his claim with anyone here in the castle as we've all witnessed their amorous embraces at one time or another."

Oh yes, Damon smirked. Let's throw some oil on that fire.

"Indeed," Marcus concurred dryly before turning unusually harsh eyes unto Edward. "You do not get to bandy the word mate around so blithely, child. Even if she was your mate, your actions would have killed you both, not to mention added an extra special kind of cruelty to your treatment of her. Her bond with you and your family is dead – her bond with Damon, however, is pure. They are mates."

"No," Edward gasped in denial, once again held back by Jasper who remained wisely silent.

"Yes," Isabella said firmly. "I am Damon's and he is mine. Deal with it."

Damon stood proudly. He'd known, of course – a vampire of his age didn't live that long without learning about the phenomenon of mates, unlikely though it was to find one. Their kind could fall in love often and with many, but there was only one person they could ever have the mate bond with and pure logistics made it almost impossible for one his age to have found her already. It was like some kind of horror fairytale... two vampires riding off into eternity together.

Found his mate he had and Damon would never let her go. She was nothing like Katherine or Elena, both of whom demanded he change to fit their own needs or ideals. No, Isabella didn't expect change; she inspired it. And though he'd yet to admit it to anyone but himself, he knew he loved her so completely it bordered on indecenct.

He was, however, mildly surprised by her easy acceptance of the fact that they were mates. He'd been trying to keep the information from her, not because he didn't trust her, but because he well remembered the confusing time of being a newly made vampire. He'd only wanted to make her transition into immortality as easy as possible and then lay it all out for her later.

But he should've known better. She'd been giving him suspicious looks for some time and she was far more observant than most gave her credit for, not to mention she hadn't behaved much like the average newly transitioned vampire. Perhaps it was the benefit of being sired by one's mate...

Whatever the fact, her easy and open acceptance of him had Damon wanting to bend her over Aro's throne and ravish her for a week straight. Maybe two.

From across the way, Jasper lifted a brow at him and Damon shrugged unrepentantly, his hand slipping down to Bella's ass.

"They're telling the truth..." Jasper murmured to the family. "Their emotions are entwined. They are mated."

"You can feel them?" Alice groused. "Why can't I see anything, or Edward hear anyone?"

"You saucy little minx," Damon breathed into her ear, his eyes catching Edward's in an unspoken challenge.

Bella tilted her head to give him better access and he obligingly planted searing kisses to her neck, his tongue snaking out over his mark.

"What?" she asked in faux innocence, her words slightly breathless as he continued his ministrations. "I've always liked Jasper better than the others – he never lied even if he did act like a pussy-whipped little bitch."

"Bella!" Carlisle gasped, affronted.

"Be still my beating heart," Damon moaned against her neck. He didn't think either of them would be able to hold out much longer. Newly mated vampires were always, well... ridiculously horny. And Damon didn't care for the way Dickward continuously eyeing her. They'd have to leave or he'd likely kill the lot of them and then Aro would pout for at least a century, bitching about losing the talented ones.

Jasper shot her a wry smirk. "Well thanks I suppose, darlin'."

Bella gave him a lazy shrug. "Don't mention it."

"Wait," Alice's annoyingly perky voice sliced through the moment. "What does liking Jasper have anything to do with Edward and my gift not working?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "It has everything to do with it. She likes Jasper, so she isn't blocking him."

Good lord, it wasn't fucking rocket science.

"_Bella_ isn't blocking him? But she's just a human," Rosalie interjected with a hint of derision.

"Wow," Bella scoffed. "I guess it's true what they say about blondes – certainly not known for their smarts. Hey Rosie... how do you drown a blonde? Put a scratch 'n sniff sticker at the bottom of a pool! Start scratching, bitch."

"Why you little – !"

Before anyone knew it, Rosalie was flying through the air and it took everything within Damon to keep him from intercepting the vapid little twat knowing that his woman could more than handle herself. Plus, the expression on their faces alone would be worth the struggle of his inaction.

Sure enough, Bella moved quicker than even they could see and had Rosalie pinned to the floor, her fingers curled around the blonde's throat in a silent threat.

"Go ahead – make my day," she hissed before sitting up some and giving Damon a blinding smile. "I've always wanted to say that!"

"Good job, _piccina_," he smirked even though having her far away in a room full of potential threats made his skin itch. "Now come over here and give me some sugar, sweetness."

"You – you – _you turned her_! You damned her soul. You killed my Bella! You monster!" Edward screeched and this time his melodramatics were enough to escape Jasper's capable hold and Damon decided enough was really enough. He had better things to do... like maybe having Isabella pin _him_ to the ground and make _his_ day.

In a move that bespoke his unhurried ease, Damon met the boy's charge with his bare foot, his hands snapping out to wrap around Dickward's wrists, gripping tightly as he brought his foot back and kicked the boy with all of his strength. Edward's body went flying backwards, his arms still in Damon's unyielding grip.

"There now," he said simply, spinning one of Edward's arms around like one would a baseball bat. The image reminded him of meeting Bella for the first time, her anger glorious as she swung her bat and took the Cullens' house to task. The memory alone had him stiffening in aching want and he decided that as fun as it was toying with these fools, there were simply better things he could be using his time for.

"Alright, listen up you little shit," Damon said, still twirling Edward's arms around as the boy's family rushed to his aid. "One, of course I fucking turned her – she's my mate, my vulnerable, human mate. I'm not as cruel as you; I'd never let her suffer her a mortal life in the immortal world. Two, her soul is just fine – I have the pleasure of touching it everyday, thank you very much. Three, I only killed her a little bit so get that sand out of your vagina. Four, yes I am a monster – I thought this was already established? And fucking five, she's _my_ Bella – not yours or anyone else's. I hear you try to claim my mate again and this will look like a fucking paper cut by the time I'm through with you."

Damon threw Edward's arms to the side, his lip curling in disgust at the boy's whimpering.

"Fucking pussy," Bella murmured, coming up beside him and molding her body to his once more.

"God, you're so fucking hot, piccina," he nearly moaned, his arms wrapping around her. He'd reached his limit. No more toying with the Cullens. He needed this over with so he could whisk her away and ravage her.

"Let's finish this, Aro," Damon said, his voice low and guttural as he fought his desire. Bella seemed to like his tone and lightly purred against him; it did nothing to alleviate his predicament.

"Yes, yes," Aro said, practically salivating at what he knew was to come. "As you see, Cullens, there is no doubt that you broke the law and let this young one suffer great stress at your carelessness. You have wronged the mate of one of the Volturi, though he bears not the name or crest. What say you for yourselves, Cullens?"

"Well clearly there's no need for punishment as the _girl_ has been turned," Rosalie sneered at Bella and Damon's lip lifted in a silent snarl.

Caius interjected before Aro. "Yes, but not by any of you. You all would have left her indefinitely. The fact remains you broke the law; it hardly matters that Damon fixed the issue before you could."

"Too right, brother. The law was indeed broken and punishment must be meted," Aro nodded sagely.

"Get on with it then," Damon growled as Bella's hands slipped into his hair and lightly scratched his scalp.

"Ah, young love! There's nothing quite like a newly mated pair, is there, my friends?" Aro sighed happily to the room.

"It's not fair," Edward was mumbling as Carlisle helped fuse his arms back on. "I loved her – I left because I loved her."

"You ditched her in the woods after emotionally tearing her apart – that does not speak of love to me. You don't even know what love is," Damon lightly sneered.

"Whatever your reasons, child," Aro spoke. "It hardly matters. It has been proven that you and your family knowingly and willfully broke our most sacred law. Now you must suffer the consequences. Join us, or die for your crime. Know this, Cullens, your life here will be much different than the farce you portray to the world and to yourselves."

"Come on, Damon... let's finish up studying," Bella pressed her lips to his ear, her teeth grazing his earlobe.

He shuddered. "Don't you want to hear the ruling, _piccina_?"

She eyed the family of Cold Ones like one examines a bug on the bottom of their shoe. "No. They are nothing to me now. Not one of them truly loved me so they certainly won't die for me. The cowards will choose life here and then I will convince Jane to make their stay more... pleasant. There's no need to stay and listen to them bemoaning their fate though they are the makers of it. I'm bored with them, Damon... entertain me."

Damon smirked and hoisted her up around his waist, her legs wrapping around him as his hands found her ass and gave a delightful squeeze. "Well you heard the lady..." he leaned forward in a mock aside to Carlisle and company. "Hope you enjoy your stay," he said insincerely before giving Isabella's ass a playful smack as he sped out of the room, her girly giggling trailing after them.

"You know, _piccina_," he began thoughtfully. "I'm not sure you've seen the garden in its entirety..."

"Is that so?" she nibbled on his ear.

"Oh yes, Isabella," he rumbled.

"Then take me to the garden, Damon... and then take me _in_ the garden."

He shivered against, his rising lust a force of nature on its own.

"Yes," he hissed against her. "I won't rest until I've had you on everywhere, _piccina_."

She swatted his ass. "Then get to it, mister."

He sped off to the garden, not even noticing the rapid footfalls of the nearby vampires evacuating the area.

* * *

(A/N): So there it is… hope you like it! Please do let me know what you think. I may MAY do one more of them going to Mystic Falls, but if I do, it won't be until _Thirsty_ us finished…


	3. Mystic Falls

**(A/N): **Hope you all enjoy this third and final installment. Originally donated to the Fandom4Autism charity compilation.

* * *

**This Left Feels Right: Mystic Falls**

"It's just weird is all I'm saying," Elena huffed as she obligingly walked into the Mystic Grill as Stefan held the door open for her.

Stefan sighed, frowning at the back of her head as he followed her in. "I understand you're worried, Elena, but this is Damon we're talking about. He's fine."

Feeling a mite defensive at the placating tone, Elena's shoulders tightened as her eyes scanned the crowd for her friends. Spying them in a corner booth, she marched over not bothering to check if Stefan followed. "So he just gets some call and ups and disappears – is that normal? I mean, it's been almost two months now. He has responsibilities here and he just abandoned us all like a bad habit."

Sliding into the booth, Elena greeted Bonnie and Caroline with a wan smile.

Again, Stefan gave a sardonic, closed lip smile as he said once more, "This is Damon we're talking about – are you really that surprised?"

The tightening in her eyes told them all that she actually was surprised. A part of her really couldn't comprehend just what could tear Damon away from Mystic Falls when he'd been all but their self-appointed leader as of late. Sure he caused more than his share of problems, but it was also him getting his hands dirty for her sake; him making tough decisions that had to be made even though no one else was comfortable making them because of their uncompromising sense of morality.

Out of all of them, Damon was the only one willing to get his hands dirty and because of his mysterious and extended absence, their plans for staving off Elijah and dealing with the still unseen Klaus had all but stalled. They all knew it, too. Their booth remained uncomfortably silent as each of them came to terms with their predicament. Whether they liked the vampire or not, Damon had actually done more to help them than any one of them had done for him and was likely their best chance of solving their current woes.

More than that, Elena actually missed the guy. As quick as the thought formed, though, she brushed it aside, refusing to accept it or analyze the faint stirring of emotion the realization provoked.

For a moment, each of them got lost in their thoughts and the only sound amongst the awkward group was stilted shifting and a dull slurp as Caroline finished her drink.

"Well this sucks," Caroline said, setting her drink down with a thud that had an ice cube jumping out of her glass. "Elijah is lurking who knows where, Katherine is running around causing trouble, who knows when this Klaus guy is gonna get here... and we've got nothing, absolutely nothing to go on. Our enforcer has up and left us to fend for ourselves."

"Fend for yourselves doing what?" Matt asked, coming up to swipe away some of their dirty dishes.

Caroline clammed up. "Um, fend for ourselves socially what with the thing – the gathering thing – and reasons."

Pity tugged at Elena's heart. Caroline had been doing her best to protect Matt – their only friend not in the supernatural know – but to say things had been tense between them was like saying the sky was blue.

"Right," he drew out looking almost amused at her pathetic cover-up even if hurt tinted resentment began to simmer in his baby blues. "Because that's believable."

Caroline floundered for a response, but Matt ignored her and proceeded to gather up a few more plates. He'd turned away from them, feeling like an outsider amongst those he'd once considered friends and more, but in doing so he caught sight of Tyler trying to mack on a girl he didn't recognize.

He snorted.

"What's so funny?" Elena asked, trying to salvage the situation with a distraction.

Matt shook his head. "Looks like Tyler is doing his best Damon impersonation on some girl by the pool tables..." with that, he wandered off to get back to work.

A derisive snort sounded. "That dog wishes he had half of my style," a darkly amused voice pointed out.

Slapping a hand to her heart in order to keep it from leaping out of her chest, Elena turned and gasped out, "Damon!"

A small tendril of pleasure unfurled in her gut at the sight of him and she ruthlessly smothered that under a cocktail of annoyance and anger.

"Where the hell have you been?" she snapped, eyes flashing.

To her surprise, his gaze only fell on her for a moment before dismissing her entirely as he turned to face out at the slowly growing crowd milling about.

"Damon?" she prompted and gave an internal wince at how she sounded like a nagging housewife.

"Oh I'm sorry, Elena – I wasn't aware that you were my keeper and I had to check in with you if I wanted to have a life of my own. How silly of me."

He spoke dryly with his attention only half on her as his ice blue eyes continued to roam over people milling around the pool tables. His eyes crinkled at what he spied as he fended off one of his grins.

Curious despite feeling annoyed at being so casually dismissed by a man who'd all but once declared his love for her, Elena turned and followed the direction of his gaze. It was pointless. The Mystic Grill had reached that point on a Friday evening where just about the entire town had started streaming in and whatever it was that had prompted the warm, genuinely happy light in Damon's eyes was impossible for her to determine.

Knowing him, it was probably some sorority girl he planned on sinking his teeth into later...

"Damon," Stefan cut in, giving Elena an undecipherable look as she continued to try to catch Damon's eyes. "You up and left after a mysterious phone call – did you forget about what's going on here? About Klaus and the sacrifice? About Katherine and her schemes? Whether you like it or not you have a duty to us and this town now. Where the hell have you been?"

"Out," he answered vaguely, head twisting around to get a better look at whatever it was that'd captured his attention so fiercely.

"Figures," Bonnie muttered. "We're here trying to stop the curse from being broken and save Elena's life and you were out probably on a murder spree."

Finally looking away from the one corner of the bar, Damon turned to Bonnie with a smirk. "No need to feel left out, Witchy. I swear I sent you a 'wish you were here' postcard," he stopped and leaned towards her, eyes flashing with dark humor as she automatically flinched back. "Guess it got lost in the mail."

"There's something different about you," Stefan announced suddenly, eyes squinting at Damon thoughtfully.

"Is there?" Damon turned to him airily. "Well, I did start using a new shampoo..."

Not even addressing the quip, Stefan leaned forward and inhaled deeply through his nose, frowning. "You smell... different. Like you but with something else mixed in there, too. Is that strawberries? Flowers?"

"Are you saying I smell like a girl?" Damon smirked. It sounded like an amused snide, but Elena spied a little light in his eyes suggesting he was actually excited by the idea.

"What is that?" Stefan ignored him, inhaling again. "Damon – where have you been? Who have you been with?"

"Oh – you're back," Tyler deadpanned as he came up to the table, his smarmy grin dying when he took in Damon leaning against their table.

Inwardly thanking the werewolf for his timing as she was sure Damon was preparing another zinger to rile them all up, Elena turned to Tyler and frowned, saying, "What's with you?" He was still looking mighty proud of himself despite eying Damon like a bug that needed to be squashed with the bottom of his shoe.

In the grand scheme of things, Elena supposed keeping her friend from running off with Jules had been the one good thing that Damon's absence allowed. She doubted Tyler would've been willing to hear them out if Damon had been present, constantly needling him and goading him into anger.

At her question, Tyler perked back up. "I just scored some chick's number," he grinned.

Rolling her eyes, Elena spied a napkin he was gripping like a winning lotto ticket.

"Not really sure now is the time for that sort of thing," she said with humoring censure.

Tyler gave her a wide-eyed stare. "There's always the time for a girl with an ass like that, Elena."

Standing taller, Damon eyed the wolf. Elena thought she heard a faint rumble in his chest and while his expression remained one of his patented affable looks of sarcasm, Elena thought his eyes glittered a tad colder than normal at her friend.

"Hm-m," Damon hummed. "I'll have to agree with the puppy there – it is quite an ass, isn't it?"

Spying the admiring look he shot in the still unseen girl's direction, Tyler defensively pulled the napkin to his chest with a, "Dude – I saw her first."

"Did you now... _dude_?" he sneered. "Because I'm willing to put money on that not being true. What's her name anyway?

"Not that it's any of your business," Tyler ground out. "But her name's Jenny."

An immediate and rude snort of amusement came from Damon. "Oh really, _piccina_..." Elena heard him mumble, not that she knew what he was saying. She could tell Stefan heard him too, though, because his still present frown deepened as he continued to study his brother like he was one of those bugs pinned to a matte in a science class.

"Jenny, huh?" Damon continued to taunt. "And you got her number... Did she play hard to get, fido? Maybe say she happened to already have a guy – is she really Jessie's girl?"

"What the hell are you even talking about?"

"Uh-oh," Caroline suddenly leaned forward, the proverbial lightbulb illuminating her features. "Mind if I see that number, Ty? I'll give it right back."

Fingers clutched possessively over said napkin but he slowly outstretched his hand and relinquished it to her. She read it quickly and despite feeling a bit bad for it, she couldn't help but give a small giggle.

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news," she smiled kindly and a little pityingly at him, sliding the napkin back over. "But she might as well be Stacy's mom, Ty. That's not her number."

"What are you talking about? Of course it's her number."

Damon shook his head and said, "Let me guess – 867-5309?"

Tyler glared and eyed the napkin to check. "What the hell, man?!" he snapped, confirming it for them all.

"Calm down, Tommy Tutone," Damon snickered. "I'll show you how it's done."

Before any of them could speak, he pushed off the table to make his way over to the mystery girl.

Sputtering into her glass, Elena hissed, "Really? He just gets back and now he ditches us for another fuck and feed?!"

"Damn Elena," Caroline shot her a look. "Tell us how you really feel."

Sighing, she tried to catch sight of Damon but the crowd well and truly hid him from her prying eyes. "I'm sorry – I just. I just can't take much more of this. Katherine, Klaus... the sacrifice. I'm at my wit's end here and he's just screwing around to make a point."

Stefan remained curiously silent, head tilted and a look of concentration pursing his lips. Recognizing the expression as to be one he wore when using his supernatural hearing to parse through sounds in a crowded area, Elena asked him, "Well, anything from Casanova?"

"I think," Stefan said slowly, keen eyes spying a mop of raven hair as his ears burned with the small snippets he could hear. "I don't think things will be quite the same around here anymore."

"Come again?" Elena asked, annoyed at his vagueness.

Giving her a tightlipped smile, Stefan clarified, "I'm saying that Damon isn't the same anymore. If I'm right about things then his priorities have well and truly shifted and I'm not sure we can count on him to be in our corner. At least not as much as he would have been before."

"What are you going on about, Stefan? I mean, I know he upped and disappeared for a bit but he's not that different," Elena scoffed. "Still annoying as ever."

A loud, feminine squeal broke the dull ruckus of the bar, reaching even Elena's human ears. The playful sound was immediately followed by a deep chuckle that she recognized as Damon even if she'd never heard him so... it was hard to find even the right word. Happy? Pleased?

Blissful – she decided on, frowning. Even as Elena turned and caught sight of a girl with chocolate hair wrapped around Damon's back as he bounced her towards the exit, the adjective dropped into her mind like a brick breaking the steady surface of a pond. Tainted even as it was by the din of other people talking and making their casual commotion, Damon's chuckle had found them and he sounded absolutely blissful.

Wide eyes caught her friend's as Elena mentally wondered if they'd heard the sound too... The look they shared told her they had and that they'd all reached the same conclusion as her.

Turning back to Stefan and hoping for some sort of explanation, Elena refused to focus on the sharp pain in her chest that had twanged at the sight of Damon leaving the Grill with another girl without so much of a backwards glance to her.

Stefan pressed his lips into another false smile. "I do believe my brother has met his mate."

Mate, the word echoed in Elena's mind and for some reason it filled her insides with dread.

And regret.

_Mate_.

* * *

Moaning as her back hit the front of the door, Bella sighed in relief as Damon's body immediately pressed against her. The weight of him against her, his every inch lined up along her, was equally reassuring and arousing. She'd no clue how she'd lasted that long without it.

"Too long, piccina," he echoed her thoughts and murmured against her lips. His teeth came out to play and clamped teasingly on her lower lip before he soothed the nip by sucking on it, his tongue soothing the playful bite.

"Yes," she agreed, her hands unashamedly running up his arms before burying into his hair. She gave a sharp tug, pulling his head back and exposing his throat to her, causing him to groan in appreciation. There at the base of his neck was a silvery white scar on his otherwise unmarked body. The sight of it was as reassuring as his presence against her and it filled her with both pride and desire to see her mark there for all to see.

_Mine. My mate_, she thought as her tongue slipped along his neck to trace along her bite-mark.

After abandoning the Cullens to their Volturi justice, Bella hadn't been all too surprised when Damon had come clean about their connection. She supposed some primal part of her had always known that they belonged to each other and though a part of her rebelled at the thought of being owned by anyone, even Damon, it was equally soothed by the fact that it was a two-way street.

As soon as he'd reassured her that the claim went both ways, another idea had popped into her mind and gripped her heart in a steely fist.

"Bella?" he frowned as the color slipped away from her cheeks and she froze in his arms. "Isabella?"

"Damon," she whispered, hands trembling at her sides as she fought both a sense of horror and the need to reach out and touch him.

"Tell me, piccina. Tell me so I can make it better."

The order had an underlying plea to it.

Her mouth had gone dry so she roughly swallowed before whispering, "Is that the only reason why you're with me? Why you even bothered to pluck me out of Forks and bring me to Volterra? Because of some sort of stupid supernatural mate bond?"

Of all the responses she would've expected, him rolling his eyes at her with a long-suffering sigh was not near the top of the list. It was on there – she knew Damon extremely well – but she thought he'd have valued his neck more. As her anger surged at the casual dismissal, she opened her mouth to snap at him only to glare as Damon's hand slapped over it before she could speak.

"Easy there, tiger," he soothed. "Just because what you're saying is utter bull shit doesn't mean I don't get why you're upset. Do I look like the kind of guy to buy into that mystic hippie crap?"

Taking a page out of his book, she'd rolled her eyes at him pointedly.

"Ease up there, piccina. Before I even recognized the connection for what it was I knew I wanted you. Hot, sexy little thing you were – I'd never seen anyone as glorious as you that day when I came to the Cullens' house and saw you beating the ever living shit out of their lawn gnomes. A vengeful little valkyrie."

Before she could do something childish like lick the palm of his hand to get him to ease up his hold, his eyes turned the softest she'd ever seen them. His hand slipped off her mouth, the tips of his fingers tracing her lips as he smiled vaguely. "Don't you see? When we first met I didn't see my mate – I saw a kindred spirit. The bond is nothing but a security blanket for us – reassurance because of our similar histories. Put whatever label on it you want but the bottom line is you have me and will always have me. No matter what eternity throws at us, I will forever be by your side. We don't have to be alone anymore."

He'd then proceeded to kiss her worries away.

A week later and Bella grew bored of Edward's puppy eyes whenever she was unfortunate enough to cross paths with him and despite Aro offering to have said eyes forcibly removed and burned, she and Damon decided it was time to leave. They'd said goodbye to the brothers who reminded Damon once more of his deal with them.

Before they could leave, however, Marcus had nodded her over to him. She suspected Damon had mentioned her worries to him because with no preamble, he said, "Despite what the term implies, a mating is not entirely a supernatural tie bringing to random beings together. The magic is there, of course, particularly for your kind as it is magic that triggered your existence. But it is not a random selection process based on mere chance. Life and experience has shaped and molded you into the being you are and the basis of your being has found you a companion of similar nature. A companion who understands you because life and experience has shaped and molded him into your ideal counterpart. This is a blessing, young one. Not an obligation."

With that, he placed a cold hand over hers and squeezed before nodding farewell and walking away. It'd been the most she'd ever heard him speak and recognizing him as one who spoke only when necessary, she decided to heed his wisdom and let go of her lingering doubt.

The next week of sightseeing throughout Italy had been glorious – perfect even – if not for the lingering loose ends in Mystic Falls. Throwing on her big girl panties, Bella told Damon that was where she wanted to go next. That she would help him sort out the last of his issues back at home and then maybe they could find a deserted island to occupy for a year or ten.

He'd been resistant, especially as he mention Katherine, Klaus and a whole other list of reasons why not to go back.

"That's my past, piccina. I have you now – I don't ever have to go back there," he'd told her.

But she knew better. There was certainly no love loss for the majority of people in that little town, but Bella knew underneath all the anger and resentment, Damon truly still cared for his younger brother. He never would have made the deal with the Volturi otherwise and certainly would be honoring it even to this day.

So she stubbornly insisted and recognizing a lost cause, Damon had given in.

Now he'd hauled her out of the Mystic Grill after poking his brother and his friends with a proverbial stick, pushing her into the front door of the house they'd quickly realized she could not enter.

"Well hell," Damon said when he remembered the house was now in Elena's name and Bella had yet to have been invited in. "Guess we're gonna become exhibitionists, piccina."

"Again?" she teased, running a hand along the front of his jeans.

"Always," he threw back, hand slipping up the back of her shirt and making its way to her bra.

Before he reached his goal, however, a shocked, vaguely scandalized shout of his name had them freezing.

"Hm-m," Bella teased. "Talk about bad timing."

"No such thing as bad timing," Damon murmured back, kissing her once more.

"Damon!" the voice called out again.

He pulled away and looked over his shoulder, snapping, "Do you mind here? There's only one woman I want to hear crying out my name and it isn't you."

Glancing over his shoulder, Bella spied the little group he'd been antagonizing at the Grill, recognizing the girl who broken them apart to be Elena. "She looks a little jealous, don't she?" Bella joked.

"Of course she is – women would kill to be you right now, little Bella. Luckily for you, you've got me to protect you."

"My hero," she deadpanned.

"Seriously?" Elena chimed in again.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Damon through back snidely before giving the girl an overly sweet smile, saying, "Actually, why don't you make yourself useful and invite Isabella in. She and I were in the middle of something."

"You pop up from out of the blue after abandoning us to do who knows what and you expect to breeze back in here like it was nothing?" Elena spat.

"Whoa now, cupcake," Bella said, pining the girl with a glare. "Don't be talking shit you know nothing about."

"One can say the same for you," the blonde haired vampire by the girl's side chimed in.

"It's no wonder you didn't want to come back, Damon – what with this welcome committee."

"I think we should all take a deep breath and calm down," the male vampire she knew to be Stefan interjected.

"Get your little human back on her leash then. Damon doesn't answer to any one of you, especially her."

"I so love it when you talk dirty, Isabella," Damon whispered in her ear, giving her lobe a friendly nip before he said again, "Any day now Elena."

The fuming girl uttered an invitation grudgingly and Damon wasted no time sweeping her up into his home, annoyance prickling the back of his mind when the others followed.

"Look," Stefan said, ever the mediator. "Clearly when you left some things happened... am I right in saying that this is your mate, Damon?"

"Damn straight," Damon allowed, giving Tyler a cocky glare. "You snooze you loose, fido."

"Okay," Stefan jumped in again before the werewolf could retort. "All that aside, you have to know how serious things are here. Katherine is out of the tomb and causing trouble. Elijah is an atom bomb about to go off and we're no closer to finding out about Klaus and how to save Elena from him. I don't know why you up and left so suddenly and I know you can't control when you find your mate, but Damon, now is not the time for mind games."

"For once, we agree," Damon airily announced, walking over to the liquor cabinet and pouring a glass for himself and Bella. Handing her the glass, he winked in silent cheers to her.

"Gee thanks, no one else needs a drink right about now," Caroline huffed.

Damon turned to her. "You've got hands, don't you? I'm not your _g__arçon_. If you're thirsty, get it yourself."

Bella found herself thankful for the bourbon because as the group prattled on it became clear they were expecting Damon to somehow bail them out. They had a laundry list of problems that he was in no way responsible for and yet there was a not so subtle insinuation that it was his responsibility to solve them. Out of respect, Bella maintained her tongue and allowed Damon to bait and taunt them as she frowned into her glass before tossing it back and then throwing it against the wall.

The clattering as the tumbler shattered stopped the steadily rising voices.

"So here's what we're gonna do," Bella announced now that she had everyone's attention. "You all are going to stop blaming Damon for your problems and if we're feeling generous we'll try to help you out with this sacrifice thing."

"Damon did start most of our problems," the witch shot back.

"Oh I call B.S. on that... If anything, Elena is the cause of your problems. Whether or not Damon is even here, she's still the doppleganger and still the reason this supernatural showdown is about to commence. I blame that bitch Katherine too, naturally."

"Regardless," Stefan said. "He cause a lot of problems and it's responsibility to make things right."

"Oh like you're one to talk," she hissed, causing Stefan to step back at the venom dripping from the words.

"Easy piccina," Damon murmured, his hand slipping into hers and squeezing reassuringly. "Don't waste your breath."

"No Damon. I get that he's your brother and you feel some sort of obligation to him but he's a damned hypocrite. You're _still_ paying for his past mistakes while cleaning up after his Ripper binges and he doesn't even acknowledge it. Doesn't even treat you with common decency. We'll sort out this mess and give you the closure you deserve but after this you're taking me to Hawaii."

A small smile upturned his lips. "Hm-m, white sandy beaches, you in a bikini... you got it, piccina."

"Good – now you go have your heart-to-heart with your brother and I'm going upstairs for a nap before I kill one of his little friends. Especially that fool girl who had her chance with you and is now acting like a jealous girlfriend as if you betrayed her somehow. So help me, Damon, I won't be held responsible for my actions if she keeps shooting off that fool mouth of hers."

She turned to the stairs, determined to sniff out which room was his to follow through with her words when a slow clapping started.

"Well, well. This one has balls – I'll give you that."

A swirl of voices and movement and then Bella felt herself being slammed up against a wall. Time froze as eyes clashed. For a long moment, Bella could only stare, unable to comprehend who was holding her threateningly up against a wall, a stake raised to her chest. Her eyes flickered to Elena, the vampire holding her, then back again twice more before it clicked.

"Katherine, I presume?" she ground out.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Damon inching closer, mindful of the stake the bitch had pressed against her.

"I see my reputation proceeds me," Katherine grinned coyly.

"Yeah, not so sure I'd be proud of that," and taking her shot, she slammed her head into Katherine's and wrestled out from under her.

While the bitch was older and therefore stronger, it was clear she hadn't expected Bella to be trained in fighting. But Bella had spent her nights in Volterra not only discovering the joys of Damon's body, but learning from each member of the guard... though not the captain, Demetri. After Damon had torn off his arm for getting fresh with her he'd been sure to steer clear of her.

Using what she'd learned, Bella reversed the pin and snatched the stake out of Katherine's grip after punching her n the throat. Without hesitating, she seized her opening and plunged the stake into the bitch's frozen heart, watching dispassionately as her skin turned grey and her eyes widened in shocked horror.

A long moment of silence passed.

"Well then – that's one thing off your little list of problems," Bella announced as she accepted Damon's hand and rose to her feet. "Call us if Elijah or Klaus shows up."

Leaving the group gaping behind her, she headed towards the stairs. Her foot had barely touched the first step before Damon was behind her, sweeping her up into his arms and running her to his room.

She patiently allowed him to look every inch of her over, knowing that regardless of her bravado she really had just gotten lucky in being able to kill the bitch.

"I'm fine," she whispered, knowing he needed the reassurance.

His eyes flew to hers and she saw both the pride and fear there.

"I know," she said, hands smoothing over his face. "But I'm fine," she murmured once more, sitting up to place a kiss to his lips. "We're fine."

"We're fine," he agreed finally, hands making quick work of their clothes as his mouth crashed down to hers as he hungrily sought physical reassurance of her wellbeing.

"More than fine," she nearly purred as his hands found that sweet spot between her legs.

"Yessss," he hissed as his skin rubbed against hers. "Now where were we before we were interrupted, piccina?"

Smiling, Bella stretched her hand out and gripped his cock in her hand, squeezing and twisting her wrist ever so slightly. Rewarded with his moan of pleasure, she said, "How about I just show you?"

To which he eagerly agreed to.

_Fine_, she thought again as their bodies fell together in a well rehearsed dance. No matter what life threw at them, Bella knew she and Damon would be just fine so long as they had each other.

* * *

**(A/N):** Thanks for reading - hope you enjoyed it :)

Piccina - Italian term of endearment meaning 'little one' or 'little girl.'


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